


As One Wishes To Live

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [26]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Genie!Klaus, Magical Artifacts, klarolineauweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline was just trying to clean the ugly gold thing Kat pawned off one her, in the hopes that it would be slightly less heinous afterwards. Then there's blue smoke, and a naked man in her living room calling her 'Mistress.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	As One Wishes To Live

**Author's Note:**

> This one was also for AU: Mythological Creatures

**As One Wishes To Live**

**(The initial prompt was pulled from a prompt Tumblr (I can't remember which one!): "** **Yeah hey thanks for rubbing my lamp I'm your genie or whatever listen where is the closest newspaper stand I've been in that lamp for a long time and I need to check my stocks also what year is it?" AU – but it veered in a different direction. Title taken from an Oscar Wilde quote. Rated T.)**

Caroline was being taunted.

By the tarnished gold  _thing_  that sat on her mantle.

It had been there since Sunday morning - when the girls had come over for brunch. It kind of looked like a gravy boat, and Caroline had no idea what its actual purpose might have been. Kat had produced it with a flourish, explaining that she'd found it in an antique store and that the owner had said it was guaranteed to make a young ladies' dreams come true.

But, as Kat had proudly proclaimed, she wasn't exactly a lady, and Caroline needed it more.

Caroline had protested, and they'd squabbled briefly, much to Bonnie and Elena's amusement. Kat had won, since she was one of the few people on earth who stood a chance against Caroline's stubbornness. Kat had plopped the tacky gold tchotchke on Caroline's kitchen table on her way out, tossing her hair and smirking, in the face of Caroline's glare. Caroline had moved it immediately, thinking she could more easily ignore it if it sat over her fireplace.

But that hadn't happened.

Caroline's eye was constantly drawn to it. Whenever she was in the living room, or even just passing through. She wished she could throw it out. But Kat would  _never_  let that go. Caroline was stuck with it.

It really didn't go with any of her stuff. But maybe it wouldn't be such an aesthetic train wreck if she polished it? Being clean couldn't make the thing any uglier.

Resigned, Caroline dug out a jar of metal polish, and a cotton cloth, spreading out some old newspapers and rolling up her sleeves. She scrubbed at the metal, for a few seconds, before a thin, blue-tinged, misty-smoky substance began to stream out of the spout. Caroline panicked, dropped it with a clatter, and shoved her chair back from the table. Was this some kind of weird chemical reaction? She totally should have checked the date on the polish. The windows were open so it couldn't be that bad, could it? She wasn't going to die from inhaling this stuff, was she?

The smoke thickened, filled the air, the scent of it pleasant, like pine trees and oranges. Caroline squinted, trying to see through, able to just make out the shape of her couch, across the room.

And then, the smoke dissipated, all at once.

And Caroline was left blinking, mouth agape, at a very attractive, very  _naked_ , man who was now standing in her condo.

She figured there were two explanations. Either Caroline was dead, or she was seriously high.

Caroline had never really thought about heaven (or if she was really qualified for admittance) but why wouldn't it be filled with nude men with spectacular abs? And if she was high, well, then she didn't have to feel weird about ogling the imaginary guy's package, did she?

And then he spoke. His voice was low and melodic, his words accented, "Mistress, how may I serve you?" he asked, bowing slightly at the waist.

And yeah, that really didn't help Caroline's composure. Because that sentence was right out of her naughtiest dreams.

She was leaning towards this being a hallucination, because surely dirty fantasies had no place in heaven? Her family had never been much for church, but from what she'd absorbed second hand, growing up in small town Virginia, she'd assumed God would kind of frown on the kinky stuff.

He was watching her expectantly, still bent slightly forward, "Um, what?" Caroline managed to stutter.

"Mistress, how may I serve you?" the man repeats, at a louder volume, with crisper enunciation.

"Oh, I heard you. I'm not an idiot."

"I would never call you such a thing, Mistress."

He's deferential in tone, but his expression hovers around boredom and if Caroline's not mistaken she sees a solid amount of resentment, in the press of his lips and the slight narrowing of his eyes.

She brings a hand up, rubs at her eyes. Blinks a few times, and nope. He's still there. "Awesome," Caroline mutters. "Totally wish I hadn't turned down those mushrooms in college. At least then I'd know how long a hallucination was supposed to last."

"You think me a figment of your imagination? I am not. I assure you, Mistress, that you are not the first to assume as much."

Caroline holds up a hand, "Could you stop calling me Mistress?"

"As you wish. I am yours to command. How shall I address you?"

"My name is Caroline."

"Those who summon me don't usually wish for me to be so familiar, but if that is what you prefer, then that is what I shall call you. How may I serve you, Caroline?"

Caroline ignores the tiny part of her brain marvelling at how hot that still managed to be, and focuses on his other words, "'Summon you'? I didn't  _summon_  you."

"You possess my lamp, and rubbed it, therefore I am yours."

Caroline runs her hand through her hair, glancing around, to see if maybe this is some kind of elaborate prank. She wouldn't put it past Kat, to hire a stripper, just to mess with Caroline.

But there's no one around, and there's no way Kat could have known just  _when_  Caroline would choose to deal with her gift.

"I think I need to sit down," Caroline says, nodding to herself. She kind of wants a drink, but she's pretty sure that will only make things worse. Backing up, she sits on the couch, pulling the throw off the back and offering it to the man. "Why don't you um, cover up? And sit down, so I can figure this out."

He takes the purple knit afghan from her, wrapping it around his waist before sinking to his knees at her feet.

Caroline leans back in alarm, "What are you doing? You can sit there," she points at the armchair next to her. The man rises, enviably graceful and regal, despite the fact that his only covering is her inexpert attempt at knitting (it was  _supposed_  to have been a stress relieving activity. It hadn't worked out, once Caroline's innate need to strive for perfection had kicked in, only to have to battle her lack of skill).

He sits down in the indicated chair, "I apologize, Mist-Caroline. My last summoner did not allow me to sit on her furniture."

Caroline's mouth falls open, and she has no idea how to reply to something that's frankly so batshit insane. "Who are you?" she asks, finally. Because she really needs to figure out what the hell's happening here, and that seems like a pertinent question.

"I have been called many things, by many people. Are you asking me my name? It's been a very long time since I've used it." The man's head tips to the side and he seems puzzled, as he studies her.

"Yes. I am asking you your name."

"Niklaus. Though I always preferred simply Klaus, from people who were not my family."

"Klaus," Caroline tests it out, and he smiles, faintly. "I guess my next question is  _what_  are you?" She has a sneaking suspicion. It's absolutely nuts, of course. But the lamp and the smoke, his subservient manners, only led her to one conclusion.

"I'm not certain how long it's been, but the last time I was out of my lamp the common term for what I am was 'genie.'"

A laugh bubbles out of Caroline, mildly hysterical, and she claps a hand over her mouth. Klaus raises an eyebrow, but doesn't seem offended. "I take it you don't believe in the existence of such things? Other beings, magic? Humans have become so mundane."

Caroline thinks she should probably be offended by that, but she'll allow the guy a little crankiness. It sounded like being a genie royally sucked.

"So, how does this work?" Caroline asks, pulling her legs up on the couch and leaning forward, "I get three wishes, right?"

"Precisely. And I am bound to serve you, until such a time as they are completed."

"Serve me how?" She's pretty sure she knows, and it makes her a little sick to her stomach.

Klaus shrugs, appearing resigned. "However you wish. Should you wish me to clean your home, I will do that. If you need me to cook for you, I've done that too. If you wish to take pleasure from my body, it is at your disposal. I belong to you."

God, that sounds so, so wrong. Caroline's shaking her head, getting up from the couch, "No. No, not going to happen."

"You may, of course, make your wishes quickly, if I displease you."

She whirls, "What? No! That's not what I meant. Geez. You're very pleasing."

"I am glad to hear it, Caroline. I look forward to serving you."

He says it mechanically, and Caroline doesn't buy it for a moment. "Alright, wish number one. I want you to be honest with me, and to feel free to tell me what you really think and feel."

Klaus eyes widen, "Are you sure? Wishes can't be revoked once granted."

"Yeah, I figured. And I am sure. That is my wish."

Klaus nods, closing his eyes briefly. When they open, he settles back into the chair, seemingly more relaxed. "I thank you, Caroline. I have not had such freedom in a very long time, and I am grateful that you will allow it, if only for a short time."

Caroline waves his thanks away, "Please. No thanks necessary. If I had to kiss ass and do someone else's bidding all the time I would totally explode. She sits down again, angling her body to face him, "Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions? You can totally say no, if you want to rest, or if you're hungry or anything. Actually, where are my manners? Can I get you a drink?"

"I am fine, thank you. I am in a state of sleep, when confined to my lamp, so I am not the least bit tired. And I don't require food."

"You can't eat?" Caroline exclaims, "I'm sorry, but this genie deal sounds worse and worse."

"I can eat. I just don't need to, to survive. And most of my past masters and mistresses did not allow me to."

"Well, they sound terrible. Help yourself to anything you want here, seriously." He looks like he's going to thank her again, but Caroline cuts him off before she can, "And please don't thank me for being a decent person."

He makes a soft, amused noise, "I can't help it. Decency is rarer than you seem to think."

"Depressing," Caroline muses, though she can't find it in her to blame him. He's only dropped a few scant tidbits, about his life, and Caroline assumes they're not even the tip of the iceberg. "So, how long have you been a genie? Or is it something you're born into?"

"I was cursed. Before that I was just a man. May I ask what year it is?"

"Of course. It's 2015."

Klaus' eyes light up, the blue of them brightening. He leans forward, grabbing at her hands, "Is it really?" he breathes in wonder.

"Uh, yeah. Almost 2016. Why so excited?"

"I was cursed in the year 1020. My curse was to last a thousand years. To know it's so close to expiring, that I have so few years left to be bound to that lamp, to the whims of a master. It's almost overwhelming."

Caroline squeezes his hands, in understanding. "Four years, huh? Not so bad, I guess."

Klaus grins, "And you seem far kinder, than any mistress I've had before. Perhaps my luck will hold, and once you're done with me my next will be nearly as lovely."

"Wait," Caroline says slowly, a thought occurring to her, "is there a time limit, on my wishes?"

"No, not at all. I once spent 60 years at the beck and call of one mistress, only to have her make her final wish on her deathbed."

"So… what if I just don't make mine, until like New Year's Eve 2019? And then your curse is done, and you're free."

Klaus avoids her gaze, and looks down, "That sounds… nearly idyllic, to me. But I would never presume to tell you how to use your wishes, Caroline. They are yours and you may use them as you see fit."

"Well, how about we see how it goes? Maybe you'll hate me and be dying for another person to boss you around in a couple of weeks."

"And maybe you'll decide you have no use for me, and send me away."

Ugh, god that was heartbreaking. "I have no interest in 'using' you Klaus," she tells him firmly, "People shouldn't use other people."

"Yet another sentiment that I am unfamiliar with," Klaus notes.

"Yeah. We'll have to work on that, I think. Just so you know I'm kind of a workaholic. And I'm super particular about how I like things around here. I'm an only child, so I can't help it. If you're going to stick around I expect you to pull your weight. Now, how about I show you to the guestroom?"

"I don't need a room, I have my lamp."

Caroline looks over at the thing skeptically, "Yeah, that doesn't look very comfortable to me. If you want to sleep in there, I'm not going to stop you. But the guest room is yours, for as long as you need it. And  _want_  it."

Klaus brings her hands to his lips, presses a kiss, to each of her knuckles and murmurs, "I don't think it's possible for anyone to hate you, Caroline."

Caroline feels her cheeks heat, under the serious admiration he's sending her. She's not perfect, and he's looking at her like she's some kind of goddess. It will take a while, for him to get out of the habits he's made, over the course of his life as a genie. Because it's the 21st century, and consent is a thing that matters. But they'll work on that, work on preparing him to have a real life. And she still has so many questions.

But they've got years, from the sounds of it, to figure things out.


End file.
